


Do I Have to Wait Forever?

by EmBethMarsh



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: 8059, Captivity, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Porn, virgin!Gokudera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 17:50:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1313773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmBethMarsh/pseuds/EmBethMarsh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yamamoto and Gokudera are captured by an enemy Famiglia. Neither expect to get into an argument that leads to wanking each other off and the loss of Gokudera's masturbatory virginity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do I Have to Wait Forever?

They're both harshly pushed into a stone room, basically the cellar. It's chilly and they've been stripped of their clothes along with their dignity. They're given a reason, 'to ensure neither are carrying concealed weapons'. It's a fucking weak excuse and both know it's just to humiliate them further, never mind the fact that Smokin' Bomb Hayato is renowned for his hidden dynamite.

Five minutes in and Gokudera furiously bangs on the locked door. It's heavy and stone (just like everything else in the cramped space) but the bomber never relents even when bruises begin forming on his tensed fist.

Ten minutes in and it's still going, although not as loudly or as enthusiastically. It's driving the other occupant, Yamamoto, crazy but the teen's faux smile would never suggest that and he wasn't about to tell the other to stop. Gokudera probably blames himself, Yamamoto figures. It was the silver-haired male's idea to infiltrate this Famiglia; it was all related to a potential attack on Tsuna's life. After that Yamamoto stopped listening since Gokudera was especially adept at rambling about Tsuna.

30 minutes in now. Gokudera's slipped to his knees in front of the door, having exhausted himself too much to stand up. It's even wearing Yamamoto's patience thin but for the moment, he keeps his mouth shut.

It's not until 1 hour later that the baseball player says anything. It's thinly veiled using his trademark laugh but Gokudera's quick to retaliate with his own trademark 'baseball moron' comment.

2 hours later and the Guardian of Storm has given up and moved away from the door, now investigating the tiny cellar window. Even if it weren't reinforced with steel bars, neither boy would fit through without a struggle and it was too high up for Yamamoto to reach. Gokudera curses in Italian. Useless.

3 hours in and Gokudera's finally settled, but not without his typical attitude,  
“You could help, idiot.” It's not really directed at Yamamoto, but is Gokudera being... well, Gokudera. Yamamoto shrugs, but doesn't reply.

It's silent 5 hours later until Gokudera decides to jibe the baseball player further (and the bomber had the nerve to call Yamamoto annoying), “At least see if you can reach the window.” At this point, the uselessly calm Yamamoto is quite irritated but manages to retain some semblance of calmness when he replies,  
“It's useless.” Gokudera growls but gives up for now.  
7 hours later and the sun's going down; the room is getting progressively colder (and it was no sauna to begin with). Gokudera, the leaner of the two, feels the effects first and Yamamoto notices a visible shiver. They're still wearing they're underwear, thank fuck, but that doesn't make it any warmer.  


The sun is completely down and the only light in the room is from a couple of street lights and the moon, 8 hours in. Gokudera's curled in on himself to preserve body heat and even Yamamoto's feeling the effects now. It's cold enough that the pair can see their breath,  
“I don't think they're paying their heating bills.” The baseball player jokes, trying to cheer up the other. He fails to realise that his jocular comments serve to further annoy the bomber,  
“No shit.” Gokudera snaps back, although without the viscosity it's normally riddled with. Yamamoto sighs,  
“I'm just trying to lighten the mood. You could be a little nicer...” He wasn't going to say it, he was going to hold his tongue but the silver-haired teen doesn't, so why should he? “...since you got us into this situation.” The olive eyes of the other flash with anger, more so than usual at that comment,  
“Yeah, at least I tried to get us out of it!” He protests, gesturing to the door,  
“That's only 'cause you felt guilty for getting us into this mess in the first place!” It's been a long 9 hours, the two are tired and cold and generally fed-up, things were bound to be said that they didn't really mean,  
“Fuck you! You didn't have to come!” He yells, hands balling into tight fists, aggravating the bruising that developed earlier,  
“Neither did you! You were just so preoccupied with Tsuna's safety, you didn't give two shits about your own.” Gokudera seizes up, grinding his teeth,  
“Don't bring the Tenth into this.”  
“Me? You're the one that brings him into this. Did you even ask him about coming here?” That's when the bomber loses it. He launches himself at Yamamoto, taking the larger boy by surprise and knocking him down. The stone floor makes him seethe as it makes forced contact with his bare back. While he's distracted by the cold, Gokudera manages to get in a couple of weak punches.

9 hours and 10 minutes later and Yamamoto, using brute strength, changes their positions. The smaller boy's wrists are pinned by a single stronger one to ensure no more punches are issued. Gokudera's chest rises and falls from the sudden exertion as he scowls at Yamamoto. Furious olive eyes make instant contact with concerned chocolate ones as he struggles under the grip,  
“If you're gonna hit me, get it over with.” Gokudera mutters, breaking the eye contact and turning his head. Yamamoto's free hand gently grips the bomber's chin, turning it back to look at him,  
“I'm not gonna hit you.” The raven breaths as the two make further, more intense eye-contact.  


9 hours and 15 minutes later, they're in the same position; Yamamoto precariously knelt over the less toned Gokudera, in their underwear, groins casually pressed together. It takes a moment of or two before Yamamoto leans further in, his grip still firmly holding Gokudera's chin. He keeps leaning until the two can feel each other's breath. It's warm and it serves to remind them of how cold the rest of the room is.

9 hours and 17 minutes in and it's Gokudera who lifts his head up and catches Yamamoto's lips with his own. It's only brief before the bomber realises what he's doing. The sudden pink hue is quite unfamiliar on his alabaster skin as he breaks their gaze. The baseball player smiles at the contact before pushing the silver hair back with his fingers and then gently gripping it to lift Gokudera into a deeper kiss.

9 hours and 20 minutes later and the blush has turned a deep red on the Italian's skin. This time, he doesn't break the kiss as they're tongues explore each other's warm orifices. He squeaks slightly when Yamamoto briefly nibbles at the other's lower lip. The hand keeping the two hands trapped is removed and gently moves down the bomber's body, grazing a nipple as it passes, drawing a lustful moan from Gokudera. The large hand fingers the waistband of the silver-haired boy's pants,  
“D-don't...” The usually gruff voice is quiet and apprehensive and it goes straight to Yamamoto's cock. But he doesn't want to do anything Gokudera is uncomfortable with, so calmly but disappointedly withdraws his hand,  
“Why?” He breaths, settling for caressing the other's nipples. The blush returns to Gokudera's face at the question as Yamamoto's lips begin to suck his neck,  
“Ha, never ahh, done it before.” The baseball player stops for a moment, a little surprised at the admittance,  
“Not even yourself?” There's a quick shake of Gokudera's head as if he's embarrassed by the fact. Yamamoto inadvertently laughs, not at the bomber's inexperience but at how cute he looks. Of course, this only serves to aggravate Gokudera but he's too licentious to properly spew insults,  
“T-touch me.” He mumbles so that Yamamoto has to question whether he'd heard it correctly. Gokudera notices the apprehension in Yamamoto's face and growls, "Touch me, babseball moron!"

9 hours and 30 minutes later, Gokudera is wildly bucking his hips into Yamamoto's warm hand and wantonly moaning as he does so. They're pleasant reactions, the baseball player decides, the hard length he's fondling becoming increasingly slicker by the second. Gokudera's pants are half-way down his legs to ensure he doesn't dirty the only clothing he's currently got.  
Yamamoto's free hand takes a hold of one of Gokudera's and he draws it to his own groin, encouraging the smaller boy to touch it himself. It happens but the strokes are unconfident and slow, obviously the inexperienced Gokudera has no idea whether what he's doing it right or not; he's just imitating Yamamoto's actions because, fuck, they feel good.

9 hours and 37 minutes later, there's a tightness in Gokudera's cock and balls and he can't hold on much longer. The pressure builds so much until it overflows from him and he shoots several loads of cum. The liquid lands on his own stomach and some finds it's way to Yamamoto.  
The boy lapses for a second as Yamamoto continues to gently caress him until his cock goes limp in hand. Gokudera takes in some deep breaths and resumes his stroking of Yamamoto.

9 hours and 45 minutes later and the slightly more experienced boy cums too. He groans and collapses next to the bomber as deep breathing resumes between the two,  
“Grazie.” Gokudera mumbles under his breath, his post-orgasmic bliss briefly making him slip back into his native language. Yamamoto just laughs in response.

10 hours later and the boys are still laid but significantly less active than they were 15 minutes previous, “I thought Italians were supposed to be ladies men?” Yamamoto mutters, somewhat jokingly and somewhat serious,  
“Shut up.” Gokudera automatically states back but takes a moment to wonder whether Yamamoto's referring to his inexperience or the fact he's probably gay.

12 hours later and it's Tsuna and Reborn to the rescue. Fortunately, the bomber had the common sense to tell Reborn where the two were going and when neither came back, the famous hitman had his student instantly on the case. He breaks the small window and destroys part of the wall using a very small X-Burner.

Neither Reborn nor Tsuna question why the boys are only in their underwear as they disappear back home.


End file.
